


Look for the Helpers

by goreds



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Covid-19 Related, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Angst, Pandemic - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, one character gets sick and another helps them back to health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreds/pseuds/goreds
Summary: Dr. Francis Crozier, stuck at home, lends a hand to his sick next-door neighbor, James Fitzjames.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Kudos: 31
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	Look for the Helpers

The libraries were closed. Dammit, the libraries were _closed_. So were the bookstores. So was his uni campus, so his little corner office was out.

No, Dr. Francis Crozier was very stuck at home. Of course, he was supposed to be. But he could never get any work done at home, preferring to settle down with a nature documentary and some whiskey.

So, he wasn’t getting any work done and seeing as he was on a sabbatical, he had no students to talk to, either. Thomas Jopson, an industrious Ph.D. candidate, had called him, but Francis didn’t really feel like calling him back. No, the world was turned on its ear, and Francis was just going to have to wait it out.

But Francis needed to move about; shelter-in-place was a phrase that struck terror in his heart. He wished he could live on a boat in the middle of the ocean, far away from disease and pandemics, free to go wherever he liked.

Francis’s imagining of a different life was interrupted by some very loud coughing next door. More like hacking. His neighbor, James Fitzjames, was probably sick with it, Francis guessed. Fitzjames was a party animal when he wasn’t writing on an obnoxiously loud typewriter. Why the man couldn’t join the 21st century and use a computer like everyone else...

But Francis felt bad for the lean, tall man. He dug through his cupboard to see if he had any cans of soup he could offer. Francis was no cook, but it was the least he could do.

Francis knocks on Fitzjames’s door. Fitzjames answers, but he doesn’t open the door. “You should probably go away, whoever you are. I’m told this is catching!” He says this cheerily as if there isn’t a global pandemic going on outside their building.

“It’s just Francis Crozier, your next-door neighbor? With a can of soup. Thought it might help.”

Fitzjames does that hacking cough again. Francis can hear the skittering of some small animal clawing at the door. “Jacko, down,” Fitzjames orders. “Ah...just leave it on the doormat, and I’ll get it after you leave. Very kind of you.”

Francis does so, but he doesn’t fully go back into his apartment, preferring to wait and see just how bad Fitzjames looks. Fitzjames opens his door carefully and snatches the can of soup up. Francis catches a glance of a flushed cheek and greasy black hair. Fitzjames slams the door behind him.

“Thank you,” Fitzjames calls.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I could help, if you need anything. Not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

“Wouldn’t want you to catch it! This is a nasty bug.”

“Well, technically it’s a virus--”

“Whatever. It’s nasty, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

“Fine, Fitzjames. Get some rest. Enjoy that soup.”

“Thank you,” Fitzjames’s hoarse voice responds.

Francis goes back to his apartment and makes some tea. He tries to watch another nature documentary, but his heart isn’t in it. Every now and then, he can hear Fitzjames cough-hacking. The walls are either thinner than he knew, or they’re getting thinner. He drifts off in his easy chair, and he’s only startled awake by a desperate knock on his door.

It’s Fitzjames, looking pale and shivering. “Maybe I do need help,” he admits, before nearly collapsing into Francis’s arms. Francis takes him over to the easy chair, setting him down gently.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to the hospital?”

“They’re full,” Fitzjames wheezes. “Besides, I’m not eligible for a test. And I hate hospitals, besides.”

“Fine. Would you like a cup of tea? Some water? Paracetamol? I might have some.”

“Yes, to the last two. I don’t think I could stand tea right now.” Fitzjames smiles, weakly. “You’re very kind, Mr. Crozier.”

“Doctor, actually. But you can call me Francis.”

“Call me James, then. I would shake your hand, but I can’t really lift my arms.”

Francis gets James a cup of water, before searching for the paracetamol. He finds a bottle, expired, with only a few tablets left. “If it’s okay for the paracetamol to be expired, I have a few left.”

“Don’t know how much good it’ll do, but it’s worth a shot.” James takes the tablet and swallows lightly. “I really hope you don’t get this on my account.”

“I’m made of sturdy stuff. Don’t worry about me.” Suddenly, Francis hears a skittering behind him. He turns around and is surprised to see a small monkey climbing up his pant leg. “What’s this?” He tries to shake the monkey off, but the damned thing holds on for dear life.

“Oh, that’s Jacko. He’s my pet.”

“You keep a monkey as a pet?”

“Old joke of an ex-boss. He thought I was too lonely but too scattered for a cat or a dog. So, a monkey.”

“Aren’t monkeys harder to take care of?”

“Jacko does okay. Keep any food of yours in the cupboards, though. Sneaky little bastard.”

Francis never does get used to Jacko. But it’s a monkey, and Francis is more of a dog person. Francis tends to Jacko’s owner as James goes in and out of lucidity, and Jacko watches attentively. Francis offers James his bed to lie down in, but James just stays in the easy chair, preferring not to move.

Francis is wiping James’s brow a few days into helping the younger man when James wakes up, startled. “What’s happening? Where am I?”

“You’re in my apartment, James. Francis’s apartment.”

“Oh, right.” James settles back down. “You’re too kind. I didn’t expect this from you, honestly. You seemed like a grump.”

“I am a grump. But I don’t like to see people suffer.”

“That’s a good trait. More people should feel that way.”

“I think most people do, they just don’t often get a chance to prove it. Most times are not like these.” Francis pats James’s cheek with the wet cloth.

“Look for the helpers?”

“Yes. You’re looking better. You’ll be out of this in no time.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Never better. Told you I was hardy.” Francis cracks a grin. James tries to smile back.

“When all this is over, I must take you out somewhere, to thank you for your kindness to me and Jacko.”

“Just so long as Jacko doesn’t come along,” Francis chuckles.

“Oh, no, he’s a house monkey. Have you two been getting along?”

“Well, he found the bread and ate all of it, but other than that...we’re cohabitating.”

James laughs, before coughing, but not as badly as he had been.

Francis puts his hand over the other man’s. “It’s good to hear your cough subsiding. Maybe I’ll finally get my easy chair back soon.”

“It’s very comfortable. I might just stay. Or steal it.”

“You can try.”

James just nods, before going back to sleep. Francis smiles affectionately at him. He never expected his next-door neighbor to be charming or especially kind. Maybe it’s the fever. Maybe he misjudged James. Maybe he’s not a flakey party boy. Francis is looking forward to this all being over, so he can go out with James, like he said.

Francis isn’t one for going anywhere other than the library, or the bookstore, or his campus, but he might be willing to break his loner habits for sprightly James.

 _Well, that’s one good thing to come out of all of this_ , Francis reflects. 


End file.
